


Marker

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 09:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Bilbo questions Thorin’s route back.





	Marker

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for littlemagicfox’s “47. “You’re seriously like a man-child.” Bilbo and Thorin AFTER they've reclaimed Erebor” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“...And this,” Thorin finishes, “is where we’ll set our final camp before we’re into the warmth of your own bed. At least this time you won’t have to find quite so many places for us to sleep.” He winks, as though Bilbo couldn’t already guess why they’d save on at least one bed. Although, when he really thinks about it, he’s not sure how well Thorin will fit across his tiny, hobbit-sized mattress, and he doesn’t imagine the springs will appreciate the weight. Just one of Thorin’s muscular arms probably weighs as much as Bilbo’s whole body. Still, they’ll find a way. Just like they found a way to make it all the way to the Lonely Mountain, to reclaim Erebor, and to build up a thriving city. A short vacation to his old home should be nothing compared to all that.

He’s just picturing the look on Lobelia’s face at seeing him ride up with a _king_ for a boyfriend when it occurs to him to ask, “Why is it so curvy?”

Thorin mutters, “Hrm?” around a mouthful of ale. Tucked in the corner of their bedchambers, lit with low candlelight across the table, they’ve each fetched their drinks for the evening and settled down to plot their next quest. They won’t be able to leave for at least another month—they need to wait for Dáin to arrive to oversee things while Thorin’s off gallivanting on Bilbo’s arm—but Bilbo still wants to make sure they know what they’re doing this time. The intricate map copied from one found in one of Dale’s old stores is helpful. But the squiggly line Thorin’s drawn across it suddenly strikes him as odd.

Bilbo presses his index finger to the little triangle representing their mountain and draws it straight across to the left. “We went this way last time, except with perhaps a bit of wandering here, and we came through the mountains a little crooked, but for the most part, it was an even line. What you’re proposing will take three times as long, and now we’ve got less time to spare!”

Thorin squints at the map, as though just noticing this now, but Bilbo knows him well enough to see that this is no surprise. Catching Bilbo’s gaze in the corner of his eye, Thorin straightens and coughs pointedly. His cheeks bear a subtle blush that instantly sets off a warning in Bilbo’s head. “Well, I wanted you to see more of the world, of course, since I know how you’ve acquired such a taste for adventure.” 

Bilbo lifts an eyebrow, because while he may have warmed up ever so _slightly_ to adventuring in the course of his quest, he’s still far from the type to travel just for travel’s sake. Perhaps once he’s grown a little more used to living abroad, things will change, but at the moment, he’s had quite enough excitement for a while and misses the peace of the Shire. The way Thorin’s plotted their journey, he won’t see Hobbiton again for perhaps a year or two. And Erebor shouldn’t have to go that long without a king.

Thorin must be able to see the disbelief on Bilbo’s face, because he hurriedly taps the hills marked above Mirkwood. “See, these mountains are quite formidable, but they’re also a sight to behold! I couldn’t possibly go back west without glimpsing the Grey Mountains at all! And you see, here, if we go closer to Moria, we may well avoid the orcs that took it, but still find remnants of Dwarven ruins. And then we can come up again to the Last Bridge—”

Following Thorin’s thick finger across the map gives Bilbo a start—he realizes suddenly that Thorin’s dipped _just_ below Rivendell, only to come up west of it. Putting a hand atop Thorin’s to still it, Bilbo traces the line back—Thorin’s route completely bypasses Mirkwood. Suddenly the bizarre ‘S’ shape makes sense.

Leaning back in his chair, Bilbo deduces aloud, “You’re avoiding the elves.”

“What?” Thorin splutters, as though he’s never been accused of such an atrocity. “Ridiculous! I merely wanted to show my beloved partner—”

“Your beloved partner wants to see Rivendell again,” Bilbo grits out, steeling over, because Thorin can be loud and stubborn and large, and Bilbo’s learned that the only way to deal with him is to meet him head on.

Thorin just shakes his head and insists, “Impossible! We have to cut through the Southern Misty Mountains if we want to—”

“And what about the Woodland King?”

“The Grey Mountains—”

“Have nothing to do with anything and you know it!”

Finally, Thorin bursts, “They locked us in the dungeons!” He glares for a split second after it’s out of his mouth, then seems to realize he’s betrayed himself, and he quickly makes a visible effort to calm down. With a deep breath, Thorin icily admits, “I have no wish to set foot where I am not welcome.”

Bilbo has to rein in his annoyance just as much. He _liked_ the elves, even if the whole dungeon incident was rather unfortunate. It worked out in the end. He tries to explain, “That was merely a misunderstanding. And they fought with you in the war—”

“After only coming here to _start_ a war—”

“Oh, you can be such a child sometimes!”

Thorin looks sharply taken aback, somewhere between furious and wholly offended. Bilbo just drops his head into his hands, needing a deep breath to calm himself. As much as he wants to see the Shire again, he’s not willing to take an eternity to get there. And he _wants_ to see Rivendell. When Bilbo looks up again, Thorin still looks unmovable. 

Bilbo quietly tells him: “We’re taking the straight path, Thorin, and you’re going to meet with elves. You’re not a child; you’re a _king_ , and you need such allies if you’re going to keep your mountain this time around. And you’re going to take your lover home the proper way if you wish to keep him, too.”

Thorin crinkles his nose, not unlike what Fíli does when faced with Bifur’s cooking. Bilbo’s internally glad that hobbits tend to deal with children well. 

Equally as quiet, Thorin returns, “And I just reclaimed an entire kingdom, restored it to greatness, and am willing to trek halfway across the world just for a vacation that might please that lover.”

Bilbo meets his brutal stare, and for a few seconds, it seems like neither will back down, and they won’t be able to go anywhere at all, because they’ll be busy sitting here trying to will each other’s mind to change. 

But, to Bilbo’s surprise, Thorin melts first. He lets out a long sigh and slumps in his seat, lifting a tired hand to rub at his eyes. Bilbo _knows_ he’s tired. But Bilbo still wants him to be the best he can be, and Bilbo’s quite grateful when Thorin rumbles, “Fine.” 

Before Thorin can go into a litany of ‘but’s, Bilbo leans over to press a firm kiss against his cheek. Bilbo deliberately clamps down on the light teasing his mind conjures—he could easily insist that Thorin’s been quite cranky and clearly needs his nap. Instead, Bilbo pushes back his chair and murmurs, “Well, I suppose since you’ve been good enough to do this my way... we may as well do some things your way before we leave.”

Thorin looks curiously at him, then all at once seems to pick up the hint, and starts grinning like a wolf. He rises to his feet, while Bilbo’s already backing up towards the bed, the map, for now, resolved.


End file.
